Hallowed Is Hamada
by Lord Kristine
Summary: This is a reflection on the life of Katashi Hamada.
1. Forethoughts

It's hard for a dinosaur to fish. Katashi Hamada knows this, because he is a dinosaur, and he's trying to fish. Obviously, the most pressing question is: why is he trying to fish? Ha! No, the most puzzling aspect of his situation is the fact that he's a dinosaur, of course. The reason for his change in species is relatively simple, but Katashi hasn't bothered to figure out the logic behind it, mostly because there isn't any. As far as he's concerned, it would be foolish to worry about his shape, because nothing is about to change the fact that he's covered in scales, etc. Unfortunately, it becomes problematic when he has to do things that require hands (i.e. fishing). He's sitting by the river now, trying to untangle his line. It has snagged on his quills. What a pain in the ass. And speaking of which . . .

"Kat! Hey, Kat!"

He rolls his eyes as a yellow dinosaur with blue spots comes barreling down the hill behind him.

"Kat! Kat!"

"Don't call me Kat. I'm not a feline," he grumbles.

The dinosaur frowns and puts her paws on her hips.

"Well, it's not _my_ fault you have a hard-to-pronounce name. Ack! It sounds like a sneeze."

Katashi finally manages to fix his fishing rod. He casts it clumsily, then waits. Because the pole is human-sized, he looks like he's holding a twig. The yellow dinosaur stares at him with vague interest.

"Are you trying to catch a fish?"

"No, I'm trying to catch a polar bear."

The dinosaur rolls her eyes.

"Ack! I'm just trying to make conversation. There's no need to be rude."

"Is there a reason you came here in the first place?" he asks neutrally.

"Yes. I need a babysitter."

"Find someone else. I have no experience."

"You sure?"

"Yes."

The dinosaur sighs, then rubs her temples.

"I've asked everyone on the island . . ."

Katashi does not reply. The yellow dinosaur, now aware that he will not assist her, is willing to ask real questions about his hobby.

"What kind of fish do you catch here?"

He shrugs.

"I don't know. I've never caught anything before. This is my first time."

"First time fishing?"

"First time fishing as a dinosaur."

She nods and stares out at the river. After a moment, she rubs her chin.

"You know, this would be a lot easier if you used your claws."

Katashi nods.

"Probably. I'm not trained in the art of hunting. I grew up in a fishing village, and we used rods."

"But you're a dinosaur."

"So?"

"Use your claws."

Katashi considers this.

"No, I don't think I will."

"You could buy fish at the market, if you're hungry."

"I'm doing this for fun."

"How is waiting for a million years fun?"

Katashi sighs.

"Robin, sometimes you have to listen to the silence in order to appreciate sound."

She cocks her head.

"Is that some kind of weird Korean philosophy or something?"

"I'm Japanese."

"Same thing. Anyway, what are you doing tonight?"

"Not babysitting."

She hums.

"No, I was asking because I need a date."

"Why?"

"Because I'm lonely."

"And everyone else was busy?"

"That's a strange assumption to make!" she retorts defensively, "What makes you think that you're the bottom of the barrel?"

"You hardly know me."

"I know you _extremely_ well, thank you very much!"

"You thought I was Korean."

She crosses her arms.

"Fine. So maybe I asked, like, five or six other people, but it's not like you're terrible or anything."

Katashi smirks.

"Thank you, but I know you don't actually like me. There are plenty of other dinosaurs on this island."

"Maybe I should ask Yannick."

"Isn't he your ex husband?"

"Oh, right. I forgot."

Once again, they sit in silence. Katashi almost pities this flaxen, cheerful, somewhat racist dinosaur. He knows that she's trying her best to get along with everyone, but it must be difficult having eight children. Katashi would have liked to have had children at some point in his life. He isn't devastated that he didn't, but at the same time, it is an experience that would have been exciting to partake in. Of all the adventures a person can go through in their lifetime, having children is the most educational. It's a lifelong commitment, after all. It requires putting another person's needs first, which Katashi is certain he's capable of doing. In fact, it might be worth a shot. Not that he's ready to pick out curtains or anything, but if he were to help this poor dinosaur with her babysitting crisis, perhaps he could learn something in the process.

"I'll do it."

"You'll go out with me?"

"No, I'll babysit your kids."

Her face lights up.

"Oh, thank you! You don't know how much this means to me!"

"It's the least I can do."

She elbows him gratefully (and in a way that hurts a little).

"It's a good thing you didn't decide to use your white privilege. Eh? Eh?"

Hamada looks down at his pasty scales. He was wondering how long it would take her to point out the irony behind their current hues. Although Robin has a tendency to be rather blunt about the subject of race, her remarks carry with them a certain naïveté. If she were to make an offensive remark (which she had done many, many times), it was out of ignorance: a charming ignorance, like an old lady sprinkling racial slurs in her everyday conversation. Whatever she blurts out accidentally, Katashi is certain that there is no spite behind her remarks. It doesn't excuse anything, of course, but at least she isn't _trying_ to be malevolent. But she could use a lesson in political correctness.

"You know, Robin, you ought to think before you speak," he mutters as he reels in his line.

"Henry says the same thing. He's Chinese, too."

Katashi tries his best to withhold from slapping his forehead.

"I'm Japanese, Robin, and there _is_ a difference."

"Ack! How am _I_ supposed to know that?"

Katashi shrugs.

"Most people just know it through osmosis . . . or common sense."

"Well, if you're so worried about it, why don't you teach me about your culture?"

Katashi laughs.

"Are you asking for my life story? Nobody wants to hear about _that_ . . ."


	2. Adulthood

Being stepped on by a heavy dinosaur is one of the most painful deaths imaginable. Any kind of crushing, in fact, is unpleasant (to put it mildly), but it's worse for Katashi because it was his goddamn job to capture the escaped asset in the first place. Normally, he'd be able to neutralize his target within minutes. He'd simply tranquilize the asset and bring it back to its enclosure without much difficulty. This mission should have been the same. Instead, he found himself being grabbed by a giant paw and flung to the ground. The sensation that followed was unpleasant, to say the least. Here's what happened.

Katashi falls. Gravity has become his worst enemy. He feels like a sack of potatoes, and wishes that he could reduce the speed of his plummet. He lands in the water and feels two things. First, he is wet and cold from the puddle. Second, he is rattled by the impact. The water he lands in is rather cool, partly from being in a shady part of the jungle, but also because Katashi has been sweating for a long time, so the perceived temperature of his body is high in comparison. He can feel the liquid soaking his clothing, seeping between the cracks in his armor. It is grainy, and a little bit slimy where the muck gets thick. It has a strange texture to it, and it feels uncomfortable. Obviously, he has bigger problems to worry about.

Although the mud beneath the water is soft, when Katashi hits it, it's like being slammed into a solid wall. It knocks the wind out of him, and he gasps for air. He soon realizes that inhaling is a bad idea, because his face is underwater. He coughs quickly and pushes himself upwards with his palms. Thankfully, he didn't swallow any liquid while he was submerged. He can still taste the mud on his tongue, however, and promptly spits out the remaining sludge. He arches his back, gasping loudly, his hands slipping in the puddle pathetically. For a moment, he thinks that he will make it out alive.

Something presses on his back.

It pushes him down, and he is back in the water. He chokes, but not for long. Whatever is touching his spine squeezes the air out of him. His last breath comes out in bubbles. As the pressure increases, Katashi feels a pain unlike anything he's ever experienced. It's like having a ton of bricks dropped on his back.

His body sinks into the mud. Although it sounds foolish in hindsight, he hopes that he will sink far enough to avoid being injured. The jungle pool, unfortunately, has a solid bottom. His situation is hopeless.

By now, Katashi knows that he is being stepped on. He can't feel the individual scales of the Indominus' foot, nor can he feel the sharp claws at the end of each toe, but there is no doubt that that is what is about to kill him. It's still pressing down. He wonders if the dinosaur is doing it on purpose. She's smart. She outsmarted him. And now he's going to die.

He can hear his ribs cracking. One of the jagged edges punctures his left lung. He doesn't have time to choke on his own blood, because he is milliseconds away from death. He knows this, but he doesn't want to accept it.

More than anything, Katashi wants to live. He wants to retire early and move back to his old village. He wants to meet a nice lady and settle down. He wants to spend the rest of his days in a quaint cottage by the lake. No more of this dinosaur bullshit. It's become too dangerous.

This is what he would have thought, if he had had the time to complete his reflection. He is cut short by the final blow. His ribcage shatters completely, poking into god knows what other vital organs. He's broken beyond repair. No doctor alive can fix this. He is going to die.

The end comes quickly. Too quickly. He does not see a dazzling light, he does not experience a comforting sensation, and he does not encounter lost loved ones. He just dies, plain and simple. It's not glorious, it's not heroic, and truth be told, it is severely underwhelming. After years and years of committing himself to a cause, his life is ending abruptly: no fanfare, no dramatics. Will he be remembered? Who knows. Certainly not Katashi. He's not going to be around for his funeral, obviously.

How many more people will die this day? Will their lives mean less than his? There's no doubt that the Indominus will kill again. Katashi was sure of this before he died. The first to go would be his coworkers. His friends. Highly trained individuals who would fall prey to an asset unlike anything they'd ever encountered. A killing machine.

There's always a chance that they'll stop it before it reaches the actual park. Perhaps Katashi is just unlucky. He hadn't been expecting it to camouflage itself. He had learned from a very young age that it was unwise to assume that there was more to the world than what was objectively there. He had no reason to assume that the Indominus Rex could change the color of its scales, so naturally, he didn't. Perhaps a dreamer might have speculated this fact. After all, the asset in question had seemingly disappeared when it was in its paddock. Unfortunately, Katashi hadn't allowed himself to believe that the creature was anything more than a simple dinosaur. He feels very foolish now. Well, he _would_ feel foolish, if he were still alive.

He would also feel something else: regret. Not the aforementioned regret of leaving the Earth unceremoniously, but another regret. A deeper regret. A regret that stems from an experience in his childhood. This regret is the worst of all.

He regrets not allowing himself to dream.


	3. Manhood

It's late. Katashi is wandering across the park, headed for the main gate, but not in a rush to get there. A few hours ago, he tranquilized a gallimimus, and he was forced to wait around because they are known to be finicky with drugs. He volunteered to do it because the team had been having a rough week, and he didn't want morale to drop any lower if he could help it. Letting himself get stuck with a shitty chore was necessary, considering he isn't a big fan of grumpy workers. Anyway, he's kind of glad that he stayed behind. The park is a lot calmer when it's not filled with obnoxious tourists. After closing time, there is a beautiful calmness to the island. The only ambient noise comes from tropical insects, and the nighttime melody will occasionally be punctuated by the gentle moo of a drowsy dinosaur. Katashi enjoys this tranquility, even though he only gets to experience it when he's working late.

Strolling along the side of the mosasaur tank, he can't help but smile. The animal is doing gentle spins and pirouettes in the water like an aquatic ballerina, illuminated by underwater spotlights. It's no longer the cheap, exploitable asset that they present as a vicious monster. It is what it is: an animal like any other. Katashi purses his lips and makes kissing sounds.

"Here, fishy. Here fish, fish, fish."

The mosasaur's left eye flicks to him, then away with disinterest. Katashi laughs gently.

"You're looking for Sarah, aren't you?"

'Rhooooooooo . . .'

The mosasaur swims deeper into the lagoon until it is barely visible. Katashi moves on

Main Street is a lot bigger than it seems. It's usually so crowded that there's barely any room to breathe, but at night, it's a charming setting. It seems like a good place for a musical number, in fact. Before he can swing around a lamppost whimsically, Katashi notices something very unusual. At first, he thinks that he's imagining things, but as he squints, it becomes apparent that the image is all too real. A chubby, green dinosaur is waddling down the street with a tablecloth around its waist. Although it is standing on two legs, it's obviously meant to be a quadruped. The way it moves is just as awkward as the expression on its face. It struggles to keep the tablecloth wrapped around its legs, almost as if it's embarrassed to be seen naked. It moves its head from side to side, glancing up and down Main Street to make sure that no one is around. It brushes up against a trash can, making it tip over, and jumps in surprise. Realizing that it was a false alarm, the dinosaur goes back to waddling down the street.

Katashi is absolutely speechless. Never in his life has he encountered something so incomprehensible. He rubs his eyes, but the dinosaur remains. It's not a hallucination. It's real. It's absolutely, one hundred percent real.

Katashi ducks behind a pillar and pulls out his walkie-talkie as the dinosaur shimmies past him. He needs permission to go after this asset, and the only person who would voluntarily work this late is . . .

"Claire? Claire, pick up."

The dinosaur glances over its shoulder as it approaches the Innovation Center. It tries to open the front door with its foot, but fails miserably. With a frustrated rumble, it drops the tablecloth, lands on all fours, and grabs the handle in its beak. It opens the door by walking backwards, then scoots through rapidly. Unfortunately, it's not quick enough. The animal screams in pain as its spiked tail gets caught in the door. Katashi watches, jaw hanging, as the dinosaur cradles its injured appendage with tears in its eyes. The doors close.

Katashi stares at the Innovation Center with shock. It takes him a long time to remember that he was in the middle of making a call. He shakes his head and presses a button on the side of the radio.

"Claire? . . . Claire? . . . For the love of god, pick up! There's a dinosaur headed straight for you!"

He realizes that this is actually incorrect. Claire is not in the lab, presently, because she was supposed to investigate some sort of crisis down South. Obviously, she was too busy to notice the giant dinosaur walking by. Classic Claire.

Katashi tries to contact her in vain. He paces up and down Main Street for a good ten minutes before he receives a reply.

"Claire? CLAIRE?!"

'I'm here.'

Katashi stops walking.

"Claire, where are you?"

'Innovation Center. Why are you still working?'

"We tranquilized a galli."

'So?'

"They don't respond well to- Look, that's not important! There's an asset out of containment!"

She gasps.

'Which one?'

Katashi blinks several times.

"I . . . I actually don't know. It looked like . . ."

He thinks about it.

"It looked like a triceratops with plates on its back."

There is a long silence.

'Hamada, we don't have anything like that in the park.'

He taps his foot impatiently.

"But I saw it with my own eyes!"

Claire snuffs irritably.

'You're seeing things.'

"I'm not! The dinosaur was walking down Main Street with-"

With a tablecloth around its waist? Oh, that sounds _so_ credible. Katashi gives himself a mental slap. He feels awfully stupid for ever believing that he saw a chubby dinosaur walking on two legs. He may as well have claimed that he saw a pink unicorn eating spaghetti.

He sighs and rubs his forehead.

"False alarm. I'm probably just tired."

'Okay. I'll see you tomorrow.'

"Yeah . . ."

Katashi sighs and holsters his radio. He must have sounded like a crazy person, ranting and raving about nonexistent assets. What kind of a dinosaur has horns and plates and spikes? No dinosaur that he knows of. And to think that he had been willing to accept the fact that it was a real, living creature . . . Claire must think he's an idiot! Ah, well. At least he knows for sure that there are no escaped assets running about.

On his way down the street, Katashi lifts the fallen trash can. He scoops up the loose garbage and puts it back in the container, dusting his hands casually.

No dinosaurs whatsoever.


	4. Youth

Katashi is staring at the billowing flames that rise from the windows of the building that up until a few minutes ago had been his home. The smoke is thick and black, and the sky has become hazy from whatever chemicals are being mixed into the air. It's kind of funny how one burning apartment can cause so much pollution. It's like that with people, too: you never quite grasp how much blood is in them until it spurts out of their body in gallons. Katashi has never seen someone get slaughtered, of course, but this seems relatively similar to that concept. He watches the structure collapse with a neutral expression, the reflection of orange flames dancing in his eyes. His girlfriend walks up to him with a spiteful glare and waggles her finger in preparation for what will surely be a long lecture.

"I _told_ you. Didn't I tell you?"

Katashi shakes his head.

"This wasn't my fault."

She sputters in shock.

"How can you _say_ that? You left a candle burning while we were away, and now the house is on fire. Do the math."

Katashi shakes his head again.

"I snuffed them out. Every single one."

"Did you count the candles?"

"No."

"Then how can you be certain?"

"Because I didn't see any lit candles when I locked up."

"Your eyes could have been playing tricks on you."

"No, the house was dark. I would have noticed."

She crosses her arms and glares at him.

"So you don't think it's within the realm of possibility that you _may_ have left a candle burning while we were out?"

"No."

She scoffs with indignation and sits on the concrete ledge that circles a small flower display in front of their house. Katashi blinks, then sits down beside her and reaches for her hand, but she swats him away bitterly.

"Katashi, you're so dense. You can't imagine anything beyond what you see and hear. Life isn't made up of basic facts. Sometimes, we don't have all the answers."

Katashi frowns.

"So, you're saying that I should trust in what I can't see? Believe in voodoo and religion? That sort of thing?"

She scowls.

"Don't be stupid. I'm just saying you should keep an open mind."

"And assume that random occurrences happen because of magic?"

She rubs her forehead.

"Katashi, why does everything have to be so black and white with you? It's like you _try_ to derail my arguments by twisting my words. I'm not making an argument for believing in esoteric things. I'm trying to explain that the answers to simple problems can sometimes defy logic. Listen, this one time, someone sprayed graffiti in the girl's locker room at my school. Do you know who it was?"

"Of course not."

"A man. One of the seniors snuck in and did it overnight, but the teachers were convinced it was a girl, so we were forced to sit in detention until someone came forward and said that they committed an act of vandalism. Luckily, they caught the person who was responsible, so no one had to take the fall. But my point still stands. The world doesn't operate based on the logic that humans assign to it. Small details can sometimes cause catastrophes, giving the illusion of spontaneity. I'm not saying that fairies are going to fly out of my ass or anything, but I'm trying to tell you that it's possible you missed a candle."

"Don't assume it was my fault."

"Don't assume it _wasn't_ ," she retorts.

Katashi doesn't believe this hippie-dippie bullshit. Is she really suggesting that he's somehow responsible for causing this disaster? He checked the candles before he left. He's sure of it. She has no right to accuse him of being irresponsible.

"None of the candles were lit," Katashi states monotonously, "I'm serious. They weren't."

She shakes her head slowly.

"I don't believe you."

"You think I'm lying?"

"No, but I think you're a fool for being so convinced that you're innocent."

Katashi rolls his eyes.

"Fine. Play the victim. It's not like the fire could have been started by, say, your hair straightener."

"I unplugged it."

"Just like I blew out the candles."

As they glare at each other hatefully, the landlord jogs up to them with beads of sweat clinging to his forehead. He adjusts his tie awkwardly and gulps.

"Listen, the firefighters say that the spark was most likely caused by a faulty electrical circuit. If that turns out to be true, we're in big trouble. I'm going to level with you: I haven't had a safety inspection for quite some time, which means you have grounds to sue me."

"Why are you telling us this?" Katashi asks suspiciously.

"Because you have a choice to make. You can take me to court, or you can accept a very generous offer. My brother owns a series of condos downtown, and he'd be willing to rent them out to you for very cheap. You need a place to stay, and I need to avoid the stress of a legal affair. This can be easy. Know what I'm saying?"

Katashi sighs.

"I get it. Give us a moment to talk it over."

The landlord skitters away like the rat he is, and Katashi turns back to his home, which is still on fire. There's no way they'll be able to move back in after this catastrophe. The building is nothing but cinders and ashes. The deal is looking like his only option.

It's not an ideal time to make a decision, of course, but Katashi really has no choice. He turns to his girlfriend with a solemn expression.

"So, what do you think?"

She shakes her head.

"I think we're breaking up."


	5. Adolescence

Katashi feels very foolish. It's the middle of the night, he has to go to the bathroom, and he's scared senseless. The journey to the toilet would be a short one, passing only a couple of rooms in the hallway, but that doesn't change the fact that Katashi is nervous about walking through the unfamiliar darkness of his home. He knows it's stupid, but every time he creeps down the hall, he imagines that there is a burglar or a monster lurking in the shadows. This is also why he never lets his foot slip out from beneath the covers. Although it may get hot underneath the blankets, he doesn't want to risk exposing any part of his body.

Logically, a duvet would not be enough to stop a ferocious beast from attacking him. If there was truly a monster under his bed (which there isn't), it would probably fling the covers across the room and gobble him up without much trouble. There is nothing to indicate that the situation would play out otherwise. Katashi has made stupid little superstitions in his own mind, and that's the only thing stopping him from going pee right now.

Although he knows that it's all in his head, that doesn't comfort him in the slightest. The human brain is a powerful tool, but when it turns on its owner, there's no force on heaven or Earth that can stop it from tearing a person apart. Katashi silently chants things like "it's all made up" and "monsters aren't real", but a part of him worries that denying the existence of the supernatural will only anger the spirits around him. It's paranoia, pure and simple. Even though the monsters he imagines are not real, they are becoming real to Katashi on a psychological level, which is almost the same thing as being _actually_ real.

Eventually, it gets to the point where his bladder is screaming for him to risk the journey. He wiggles around in bed in an attempt to fight the feeling, but is soon forced to get up. He tiptoes down the hall as fast as he can, clenching his teeth as he tries to prevent an accident. He makes it to the bathroom, and when he turns on the light, the brightness hurts his eyes. Ignoring the pain, he lifts the toilet seat and goes at it, sighing with relief. Although he has dribbled a little bit, his pants aren't wet enough to warrant changing. He finishes his business and washes his hands, using foamy soap from a bottle that's shaped like an iguana.

Although the urgency of impending urination drove him to the toilet, it didn't remove his fear completely. Now that he's stranded on the other end of the hall, he's going to have to make the journey back. This time, he won't be motivated by bodily functions. There will be nothing to distract him from his fear.

Katashi peers into the hall. There's a small nightlight, but the orange glow is fragmented from the crystalline cover that protects the lightbulb. It creates a rather sinister effect, or perhaps Katashi is simply imagining it that way out of fear. Gulping nervously, he slides one of his feet past the threshold of the door. When nothing happens, he leans forward. In order to ensure that no one sneaks up behind him, he presses his back against the wall, shuffling sideways like a secret agent. The floorboards creak, and he freezes. When he's sure that he's safe, he takes a deep breath, and-

"Katashi!"

He screams and waves his arms frantically. When he sees that it was his mother speaking, he places his hands behind his back sheepishly and smiles up at her in embarrassment.

"Hi."

"What are you doing up?" she asks.

"I had to go to the bathroom."

She crosses her arms and frowns sternly.

"Alright, well stop fooling around. Go back to bed."

He nods quickly and patters away to his room. As he closes the door, he feels his heart recovering from the surprise. There was nothing dangerous in the hall. Not really. In the end, he was scared of nothing.

With a frustrated sigh, Katashi falls back against his pillow. Above his bed, suspended from the ceiling, is a green and black kite that is shaped like a butterfly. Katashi thought it was a bat when he was younger, because it seems to be frowning at him like a blood-sucking monster would. Perhaps he just has a habit of seeing the world in an unflattering light. It's not like anything is _actually_ trying to hurt him, after all. The forces of nature aren't conspiring to bring his life to an end. There are no monsters, there are no burglars (not in his house, at least), and there are no spirits, good or bad. Whatever Katashi can see with his own two eyes exists, and everything else does not. At least, that's the most sensible thing to believe.

Even if there comes a day when a hungry monster jumps out of the shadows as Katashi makes his epic journey to the bathroom, it's not worth worrying about right now. What would be worse, after all: a brief moment of shock followed by an abrupt end or the continual thrum of anticipation for something that may never happen? Katashi believes that if a monster attacks him (which it won't), it will be an incredible occurrence, and since there is no way to prepare himself for that, there's no use in letting the world frighten him. For now, at least, he's going to block out the fear and focus on what's real.

Of course, it's easier said than done, because the settling of the house sounds a lot like pale ghosts wailing in the night.

But he won't let those imaginary monsters walk all over him.


	6. Childhood

Katashi has quite literally bought magic beans. That's what the package says, anyway. It's actually one of those gimmick plants that children can buy at the science shop for a project that's only fun outside of school. He had the choice of purchasing a Venus flytrap or a Jurassic fern, but he chose the magic beans because he's always been a fan of fairy tales, even if they happen to come from another culture. Jack and the Beanstalk has been one of his favorites ever since he read about it in a collection of stories that his grandmother gave him. That's why he spent all of his allowance on something so insignificant ( _seemingly_ insignificant). He wants to pretend that they're actually magic, and that he'll wake up tomorrow and see a giant beanstalk growing outside of his window. He's always wanted to have an adventure like the one in the storybook, and although he'd never share his fantasy with anyone, it's nice to dream about impossible things sometimes.

But dreams end the second his father steps into the house.

It's been one of those late nights. Katashi's father stumbles into the house noisily, and that can only mean one thing. Not wanting to let it get in the way of his bean adventure, Katashi frowns and pokes holes in the soil he's using, perhaps even more concentrated than before to prove his point. He can hear his mother rushing down the staircase frantically. She marches up to his father with a big scowl on her face and grabs his shoulders tightly, shaking him as she speaks.

"Where have you been?" she barks.

His father laughs unsteadily and places a bottle he had been carrying on a decorative table. It falls over. There is no liquid inside.

"You know where I've been," he slurs, "I was just having a little fun with the boys. Surely, you have no problem with _that_ , darling? . . ."

She frowns and pushes him away as he chuckles stupidly.

"I told you not to go out tonight," she scolds sharply, "We're supposed to be having a family dinner tomorrow."

He smirks.

"Tomorrow is tomorrow. Today is today. The problems of today don't matter tomorrow. That's how time works. You just keep going and going and every day of your life, you clean your slate. The past doesn't matter. It's like confus- confusions."

He laughs again, and Katashi wonders if he said something funny. It could be an adult joke, or maybe not. Perhaps he's just in one of his states. Neither Katashi nor his mother approves of this behavior. It's harmful for everyone.

As his father makes his way into the living room, Katashi pretends not to notice him. The dazed man stomps up to him like a hippopotamus. When he leans in to see what he's doing, Katashi notices that his breath smells funny.

"What are you doing, son?" he growls.

Katashi does not change his mien.

"I'm planting beans," he says simply.

His father picks up the package and flips it over.

"Says here that they're magic beans. Do you believe in magic, son?"

Katashi freezes. After a moment, he shakes his head slowly.

"No. No, I don't," he replies as calmly as possible.

His father laughs.

"Good boy. That's a sensible thing to say. Realistic. Reasonable. Very nice. You won't be needing _these,_ of course!"

He grabs a fistful of soil and throws it across the room. The beans hit the window and fall into the heater, disappearing in the dark grate with a gentle clatter. Katashi gasps in horror. As his father cackles like a hyena, his mother comes to the rescue, her face as red as an apple.

"What did you do _that_ for?" she snaps.

"Oh, relax! It's just a joke. Katashi gets it. Tell her, son."

Katashi looks down at his half-empty pot, then up at his father, who is rocking back and forth with a crooked grin. It's like he thinks he's a comedian or something. Katashi does not get the joke, in fact, he's pretty sure there _is_ no joke. But his father thinks it's funny. He thinks it's funny because he's ignorant and stupid and unsuccessful. Katashi does not want to follow in his footsteps. He can be better than this.

He stands up briskly and glares down at the pathetic, drunken man with absolute abhorrence.

"I hate you, father."

He laughs in reply, waving his hand dismissively.

"Oh, you're just being a stupid, little boy," he mutters in his gruff, unfocused voice, "You'll grow out of this rebellious phase soon enough. Maybe you'll even develop a sense of humor."

Resisting the urge to spit on him, Katashi whips around and marches up to his room, rattling the staircase with each step. He slams the door furiously and screams into a pillow to relieve his stress. He _hates_ his father. He hates him more than any other person on the entire planet. He's a menace, plain and simple. He showed up late, he argued with his mother, he threw his beans-

His beans.

It's just like the story! His father threw the beans out the window- well, technically not _out_ the window, because it was closed- and they're getting ready to sprout overnight and grow into massive stalks that reach past the threshold of the clouds and into the land of the giants. It's all so exciting that Katashi can hardly contain his glee. He's going to have an adventure! His dream is finally going to come true!

The next morning, he looks out the window and sees that everything is exactly the same as the night before.

There is no beanstalk.

There is no fantasy.

There is no magic.

It's all a lie.

 **The End**


End file.
